As I wait patiently for S.T.E.V.E. to come along and restore law and order to my garden, I gotta fight the good fight, 15 minutes a day, just before work, as I sip down some coffee. Doing this old man patrol, I cruise the garden, squinting at the sun through my glasses, scratching at my ridiculous bed head, wondering what hell went down since the previous morning. Sometimes I mutter the F word, which is fuck. Other times I smile groggily, holding a single ripe product of Panthy’s Garden. 50% of it goes directly in my mouth, right then and there.
The good news first. On my morning patrol I got these! One purple beauty bell pepper, some cherry tomatoes and the first of those Super Snow White tomatoes. They look good right? Thank you, I couldn’t agree more.
It’s not much but it almost makes the heartache of a demented, partly rotted tomato worth the trouble. These are damn fine. The cherries especially. Bout the size of a grape, these lil guys are super sweet and have a nice lil pop to em.
Now for the bad news. I noticed what looked like little tiny poops on the leaves of one of my tomato plants. I’ve never looked so closely, for so long at anything in my life. Not even when I got caught looking up the skirt of a mannequin at Filene’s when I was five.
On close inspection I noticed some little chewed holes in the leaves. Then… I saw a fat, disgusting green caterpillar, hanging out, taking a dump on leaves, having himself a leisurely meal. Must be nice… Not even S.T.E.V.E. could’ve stopped this! He looks like a branch! Nature, you goddamn little devil, you’ve done it again.
Here’s the part you don’t read to the kids. I took his little glow worm ass, yanked him from his meal and put him in a plastic water tray, because smashing him on the deck would make my deck gross. I looked around for the right murder weapon as he wiggled around stupidly, not knowing what was about to happen.
Garden shears? I’m no savage man, c’mon now. Greasy BBQ spatula I left up here over the weekend? Tempting. Eat him Bear Grylls style? (See 0:53 please) Not a good look, bro.
I killed him with the very PINE BARK NUGGET I scooped him out of the pot with. Like serving the detective the very frozen pork chop I killed the lady with! Nobody would ever find out!
Then, I plucked his friends, one by one, from their little snack perches. And they met the same sudden, gooey fate at the business end of a single PBN. It felt great and horrible. I stared around after I did the deed, my glasses having slid to the end of my sweaty nose. I felt a little like Michael Douglas in Falling Down. The F word was muttered, lives had been snuffed out, and all before I’d even left for work. Honestly, I’m sorry you have to see this side of me.